


feel it in the air

by beanpod



Series: undercover verse [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Clubbing, M/M, Undercover as a Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-08 17:44:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14110683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanpod/pseuds/beanpod
Summary: Hoseok had smiled that smile that to this day still makes Hyunwoo want to drop to his knees, all teeth and utter, unconcealedsex, had beckoned Hyunwoo with a hand around the back of his neck, and then they'd been pressed close together, Hoseok's mouth on his ear—not the one with the comms, thank god, "Just dance with me, Hyunwoo, come on, we gotta blend in."





	feel it in the air

**Author's Note:**

> i started this under the 'undercover in a gay club' prompt and then got too lazy to finish, heh. maybe someday.

Hyunwoo should've just called for back-up. Not that they couldn't have handled this on their own, but, still.

Hoseok presses close, too close, a thigh between Hyunwoo's, barely this side of professional, his mouth on Hyunwoo's neck, hands braced at either side of his head, and he's hot—hot to the touch, hot under his flimsy t-shirt, skin sweaty yet filling with goose-bumps under Hyunwoo's fingertips, surreally beautiful.

Changkyun, posted outside to keep an eye on security cameras, says into their comms, "Got eyes on Seokmin, your two o'clock, Hyunwoo," and Hyunwoo sighs, his head thumping back against the wall—how did he end up against a wall, he doesn't know quite yet, but he still murmurs, "Copy that," because they're on a job here, they're—

Hoseok's nose trails the edge of his jaw as he tilts his head, possibly to take a look at Seokmin, most likely to drive Hyunwoo fucking mad. Sad part is it actually works on both accounts.

"Is he packing?" he asks, low, so low it somehow makes its way through Hyunwoo's gut and _tugs_ , sharp.

Hyunwoo peeks over the side of Hoseok's head, pretending— _pretending_ —to kiss behind his ear. "Don't have a clear visual," he murmurs. "Changkyun?"

There's a beat of silence, Hyunwoo's fingers slowly trailing down Hoseok's side, just to test the waters, he tells himself, just to see what happens, what Hoseok does. Hoseok—sweet, sweaty, responsive Hoseok—lets out a shaky puff of air that feels just absolutely fucking delicious on Hyunwoo's neck and his thigh presses closer and Hyunwoo's been commending himself on a job well done not popping a boner here but Hoseok's making it very, _very_ difficult and Hyunwoo is only human.

"Infrared is wonky, really, with how horny everyone is in there it's like I'm looking at a big red blob, nothing stands out," Changkyun mutters testily. "Stand by for confirmation."

They'd been sipping on over-priced vodka and gin when Seokmin had walked in, a smirk on his mouth and a boy hanging off his arm. He'd gone to the dancefloor right after, so it was only smart to get in there and as close as possible, see if they could catch him dealing right there and then and call it a night.

Seokmin hadn't, the only thing he'd done was press close to his date, close enough Hyunwoo'd felt his gut twist and his dick twitch in interest, and Hoseok had caught onto that—because _of course_ he had, the fucker—had smiled that smile that to this day still makes Hyunwoo want to drop to his knees, all teeth and utter, unconcealed _sex_ , had beckoned Hyunwoo with a hand around the back of his neck, and then they'd been pressed close together, Hoseok's mouth on his ear—not the one with the comms, thank god, "Just dance with me, Hyunwoo, come on, we gotta blend in."

So they'd danced, one song, two songs, pressed close from Hoseok's mouth on his neck to his hips swaying along with Hyunwoo's, and if at some point Hyunwoo had clutched Hoseok's hips hard enough to bruise, Hoseok hadn't said a single thing, hadn’t pulled away. Changkyun had been uncharacteristically quiet in their ears the whole time.

Seokmin had eventually retreated to the side, near the bar, and he's been sitting there with the same auburn-haired boy for the past thirty minutes. Hyunwoo wonders if they're going to actually do some arresting tonight or if it's all been for nothing, this whole thing, Hoseok all over him, his mouth and his hands and his spicy scent invading Hyunwoo's senses.

"I've got movement in one of the back-doors, guys," comes Changkyun's clipped voice, staticky, slightly bored.

Hoseok pulls away from where he's been lazily nosing and mouthing at Hyunwoo's neck, his hands now on his shoulders. His eyes are hazy, fringe sticking to his forehead with sweat, and he makes _such_ a sight like this, his pretty pink lips and his dark hair and his pale skin stripped in multicolor reflections from the lights above them.

"Report on the guns, Changkyun," Hoseok says, soft, his lips stretching into a flirty smile, like he's flirting _with Hyunwoo_ and not talking to someone else in his ear, like this isn't all play pretend.

Hyunwoo smirks back because it's only polite, it's what the role demands of him. Hoseok's fingers are toying with the collar of his t-shirt, thumbs slowly catching on a collarbone, and Hyunwoo swallows heavily, tongue dry, and pretends he doesn't notice the way Hoseok's eyes follow the motion.

He's been getting real good at pretending around Hoseok these days.

"Seokmin's clean," Changkyun says. "So's his date, if anyone's wondering."

"Status on back door," Hyunwoo says, and if he extracts his hand from under Hoseok's shirt so he can cup the side of his neck, thumb on the corner of his mouth, it's only to keep the game going.

Changkyun mutters, "Back door secured. You both can go back to necking like teenagers now."

It makes Hoseok laugh, head thrown back, his neck a long, long line and Hyunwoo's sanity frays at its ends a little. He looks stunning, absolutely gorgeous, and Hyunwoo wants to ruin him, wants to put his mouth everywhere and _mark him_.

"He's perceptive," Hoseok says under his breath, still loud enough for the comms to pick it up. Changkyun lets out an undignified yelp but remains silent.

Hyunwoo's fingers twitch where they're curled over Hoseok's waist. "He's growing up," he coos, smiling despite himself, and feels Hoseok's smile stretching under his thumb. He laughs again, body slumping forwards, forehead on Hyunwoo's neck.

Changkyun splutters indignantly, "You're such assholes, both of you."

The next five minutes are spent like this: Hoseok's arms curled around Hyunwoo's neck, his mouth pressed to his ear as he lazily sings along to the current song, skipping a few words here and there, hips swaying, and Hyunwoo desperately trying to keep up, trying to remember they're here to catch Seokmin, not to grind and neck around like fucking teenagers, pun intended.

It's hard, though, because there's silence from Changkyun's end and Seokmin's busy feeling up his date and Hyunwoo's losing his bearings the longer he and Hoseok stay like this, pushed close together against a wall, Hoseok's mouth on his skin, his fingers carding through Hyunwoo's hair, and all he wants to do is _kiss_ him, lick his mouth open and figure out once and for all what he tastes like underneath all the fucking smirking.

It's not—it's never been a crush, strictly speaking. They've been friends for years, since the academy, since Hoseok became his roommate and they had to live in close quarters for the first couple of years. And yet there'd always been this, Hoseok's flirty smiles—that admittedly happen with everyone because that's just the way he is—his lingering touches, lingering smiles, lingering eye contact.

He's a touchy-feely person, Hyunwoo doesn't mind—it's the lingering that he minds. It drives him up the fucking wall because he needs to know what it means and whether he's the only one whose heart flips itself over every time it happens.

"Seokmin's bodyguards just walked out," Changkyun informs them, "but he hasn't left? What the hell."

"All of them?" Hoseok's lips fit perfectly under his earlobe. It's infuriatingly unfair. Hyunwoo's lost the will to save face tonight, he's half-hard, has been for a while, and he doubts Hoseok hasn't noticed. Both his hands curl around Hoseok's hips again, closer to his lower back this time, close to the hem of his tight jeans.

"Yes, all four of them," Changkyun confirms.

"Maybe he wants a quiet night out?" Hyunwoo tries. Because he sure as fuck wanted one and it's only fair _someone_ gets it, isn't it, even if it's not him, who cares if it's fucking Seokmin of all people.

"Maybe," Hoseok starts, a hum in his voice, fingertips teasing circles on Hyunwoo's nape, his hips still moving, "he's looking forward to get into someone's pants and needs a little privacy."

Hyunwoo doesn't choke because there's not enough spit in his mouth to do so. He groans, though, soft, very soft and at the back of his throat, mostly to himself and hidden under the pulsing beat of the music, and if Hoseok catches it, he doesn't say a thing.

"So, what, that's it?" Changkyun asks. "If he's not dealing tonight there's no point to this. Does it mean we get to go home early? I'm knackered."

Hoseok grins. "Our youngest needs a full-night sleep or he gets cranky, huh."

Hyunwoo chuckles, only half-heartedly. "He's a growing child, he is."

"I dislike you so much," Changkyun deadpans. "So, what are you two waiting for? Get back here so we can go."

Hyunwoo's mouth runs dry, again, and he swallows. He sneaks a peek at Hoseok's face; the way he's smiling makes his fingertips itch. "We'll be out in a sec," Hoseok murmurs, lips barely moving except for the corners of his mouth.

It's not difficult to hold Hoseok's gaze like this, mostly hidden under multicolor lights. "Start the car, Changkyun, you're driving us back to the station," Hyunwoo says, and takes his hands off Hoseok, trying not to linger and failing miserably.

Changkyun is particularly chatty in the car. Hyunwoo has taken one for the team and is riding in the back seat, legs folded a bit uncomfortably (mostly because of the half hard dick in his pants, but that's neither here nor there). Hoseok, sitting shotgun, has the window rolled down and the wind is making his hair messy and Hyunwoo tries not to stare but, again, fails. He feels sticky with sweat and the sweet stench of alcohol that clings to his clothes for some reason; he also feels Hoseok's kisses and the trail of his lips on his skin like he's been _branded_ , can't help but touch at his throat and exhale in a soft pant, and if either Changkyun or Hoseok catch it, no one says a thing on why Hyunwoo's panting in the back seat of the patrol car like he's ran a marathon.

"Okay," Changkyun says once they're in the precinct and they've put their equipment away. "Tonight was fun."

Hyunwoo looks up from his desk to find Hoseok sitting in front of his own at the other side of the room, looking at Hyunwoo with a tiny smile, the prettiest curl of lips. He nods and says, "Yeah, we should go clubbing more often. Maybe next time you won't have to stay in the car, Changkyun, who knows."

"Ha-ha," Changkyun mock laughs, "you're so funny. On second thought, let's never do this again."

Hyunwoo chuckles because he's expected to, closes the drawer where he keeps his extra clips and zip ties. "We can write our reports in the morning, I'm exhausted."

"Sir, yes, sir," Changkyun calls, gathering his stuff faster than ever before.

Hyunwoo rolls his eyes and after sparing Hoseok the quickest of glances, clears his throat and excuses himself to the kitchenette so he can pour himself some cold water and just—possibly choke on it and not deal with the way Hoseok keeps smiling at him.

Hoseok follows him, Hyunwoo can hear his boots on the linoleum and it makes his neck heat up. He doesn't walk into the kitchen, though, lets Hyunwoo grab a clean glass from the drying rack so he can run it under the tap. But it's not like there's a lot of room in this closet-turned-kitchen and they're still standing close, three feet between Hyunwoo, leaning against the counter, and Hoseok leaning against the threshold.

Changkyun pokes his head in a couple of seconds later. "I'm tapping out. Have a good night, you two." He sounds tired but he also sounds _knowing_ , and Hyunwoo is never going to live it down; Monday is going to be such a _pain_.

And then—

It's just the two of them. Standing close, too close for comfort, too close to still call it casual.

Hyunwoo, in a panic, turns around, starts to diligently wash his hands.

"He has this _attitude_ ," comes Hoseok's voice from behind. Hyunwoo hums around his last mouthful of water and refuses to turn around and face Hoseok because, like, he can't handle that sight at the moment, he might choke to death.

"He's cute," Hoseok comments, and Hyunwoo knows he's trying to make small-talk—why, though, Hyunwoo doesn't really know. After a while, Hoseok sighs and says, "Hey, listen, about everything that went down in the club—"

"I get it," Hyunwoo says, turning around and shrugging a shoulder as he leaves his empty glass in the sink. "We were pretending to be—you know, all that. For the sake of the investigation."

Hoseok's eyes narrow a little, his lips turning up a bit at the corners, like he's fighting back a smile, and Hyunwoo recognizes that face from when he's trying not to laugh at Hyunwoo. It'd come off as rude except Hyunwoo can see the fondness. "Were we?"

Hyunwoo blinks. "Were we what?"

"Pretending," Hoseok supplies. He uncrosses his arms—god, his arms, those arms were around Hyunwoo's neck and they felt _good_ —and pushes himself off the threshold so he can take a couple steps towards Hyunwoo, who honest to God kind of stops functioning. "Were we really pretending, Hyunwoo?" he asks, and it's such a contrast to the way he's looking at Hyunwoo right now, like he's actually scared of the answer he might get, kind of hopeful, slightly anxious.

It's different, _so_ different to the Hoseok he's seen all night, all confidence and pretty smirks, dangerous and alluring—it's still very Hoseok, though, because this, shyness heavy in his gaze and lip bitten and rosy-cheeked, this is the Hoseok Hyunwoo likes best.

Hyunwoo wets his lips, swallows heavily. "Okay," he says, nodding. "I wasn't pretending."

"Thank fuck." Hoseok's lips twitch into a smile, he closes the distance— _finally!_ —between them in one step and kisses Hyunwoo breathless, clutches at the back of his neck, fingers gentle on his hair, and Hyunwoo wraps arms around his waist, holding him close, closer still when Hoseok—beautiful, responsive Hoseok—licks into his mouth with a tiny hitched moan.

Turns out he does taste good—sweet, sugary like the drink he had back at the bar, but still very _Hoseok—_ under all the smirking.  


End file.
